Fic: Reasons To Run
Title: Reasons To Run
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Owen, Ianto, Tosh, Jack, Gwen.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1100
Summary: Chasing aliens around Cardiff for several hours has given Tosh a brilliant idea, but will the others agree?
Content Notes: None needed.
Written For: Challenge 416: Marathon at fan_flashworks.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
“How long were we out there chasing those stupid things?” Owen asked, staggering across the Hub and collapsing into the chair at his workstation, because that was closer than the tattered but marginally more comfortable sofa under the Torchwood sign.
Ianto glanced at his wristwatch as he made his way towards the kitchenette to brew a restorative round of coffees. “Four and a half hours, give or take. Not bad, considering all the sudden changes of direction and the number of aliens we had to round up.”
“Not bad? It’s a miracle I haven’t collapsed from exhaustion; I still might. Feels like I’ve run a bloody marathon!”
Tosh, who’d sensibly exchanged her heels for trainers before the team left the Hub, settled onto one end of the sofa, tucking her feet under her before taking her phone out of her pocket and pulling up a programme.
“You didn’t. According to this we only covered around eight miles; I have a programme on here that measures distance travelled. A full marathon is a little over twenty-six miles, and we didn’t even run half that.”
Owen scowled. “Nitpicker! I don’t care how far it was, all I know is my feet are killing me. That was worse than chasing a bunch of Weevils!”
“I thought it was fun,” Jack said as he wandered in from the garage, grinning.
“You would.” Owen shot Torchwood’s captain a disgusted look. “You’re a bloody sadist.”
“Me? You make it sound like I forced you to do all the work by yourself, but I was running just as much as the rest of you. All of us did our share. It’s not my fault you’re so unfit.”
“I’m a doctor, not a bloody animal catcher!”
“They’re aliens,” Jack corrected. “Not just animals, and you’re a Torchwood agent. That means you do whatever I tell you to do. We needed all hands out there today.”
“Yeah? So how come Gwen got to sit it out, following us in the SUV?”
“We needed somewhere to put the aliens as we caught them, and you’re the one who said she should keep off her feet until her ankle heals.” Ironically, Gwen had sprained it the day before when she’d slipped on a wet floor in the supermarket while doing her weekly shopping.
“So where is she now?”
Jack shrugged. “On the phone to Rhys. So…” He looked around at his team expectantly. “Who’s going to help me carry five boxes of scuttling red and black fuzzy things down to the cells?”
“Don’t look at me,” Owen said firmly. “If I stand up, my legs might fall off.”
“That happened to me once, but there was a laser involved. Sliced both legs off just below the knee. Luckily, the laser cauterised the wounds, so I didn’t bleed out while I was sticking my legs back where they belong. I had a bit of trouble getting them the right way around though. Nearly ended up with one foot pointing backwards, which might’ve made walking a bit difficult.”
“I remember that night. You nearly ended up with the left leg on the right, and the right on the left; good thing I caught up to you when I did,” Ianto said, coming out of the kitchenette, his tray laden with five coffees and a large plate of assorted biscuits. “I’ll help you with the aliens in a bit, but I want my coffee first.”
“Fair enough.” Jack went to join Tosh on the sofa. “They’re not going anywhere; they can wait another ten minutes.”
Carrying the tray over to his eagerly waiting colleagues, Ianto set it down on the coffee table before taking Owen his mug.
“Oi, don’t I get any biscuits?”
Rolling his eyes, Ianto fetched the plate, which was already half empty, courtesy of Jack who had three biscuits in each hand and another already in his mouth.
“Here.” He thrust the plate at Owen. “What did your last servant die of?”
Owen just smirked. “Ta,” he said, taking four biscuits and plonking them on top of the pile of unfinished reports on his desk.
“I hope you’re going to clean up the crumbs.”
“Whatever.”
Ianto returned to the sofa just as Gwen came limping in from the garage.
“Oooh, coffee! Thanks, Ianto.”
“I live to serve, apparently,” Ianto told her dryly, settling between Jack and Tosh on the sofa, picking up his mug, and helping himself to a biscuit from the plate while there were still some left.
Tosh was intently studying something on her phone as she reached blindly for the biscuit plate herself, taking one at random and biting into it. After a couple more minutes she sat up straighter, brandishing her half-eaten biscuit. “We should do it. I mean, we could, I think. Except maybe Owen. We three could anyway.” Tosh turned to Jack and Ianto. “We’d have to do some training, of course.”
“Of course,” Jack agreed. “Training for what?”
Somehow, Ianto seemed to get what Tosh was talking about, proving once again that he knew everything. “The Cardiff half-marathon. It’s at the beginning of October, so we wouldn’t have much time for training, but it’s for an excellent cause.”
“The NSPCC,” Tosh agreed.
“Well in that case, count me in.” Jack beamed at Ianto and Tosh. “We could run as a team.”
“What about me?” Gwen looked at her colleagues.
“Up to you,” Jack told her. “But you won’t be able to train until your ankle’s healed.”
“Yeah, I suppose not.” Gwen sighed. “Oh well, maybe I can take part next year. I’ll settle for being your cheerleader this time out. What about you, Owen?”
“No way in hell! It’s one thing chasing aliens, I get paid to do that, but running around for no reason’s not my idea of fun.”
“Wimp,” Gwen accused, sipping her coffee. “And it’s not for no reason; it’s to raise money for a worthy cause.”
“I’m still not doing it.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Gwen grabbed the last custard cream.
“So, do I sign us up?” Tosh looked at Jack, then Ianto, her expression hopeful.
“Why not?” Ianto smiled at his friend. “I’ve done the 10k St. David’s Day run a few times now, reckon I can double that with a bit of training. Jack?”
“Already said I’m in.” Jack winked at his lover. “I’ll run right behind you and enjoy the view. That’ll be all the motivation I need.”
Ianto snorted. “Typical.”
“This is going to be brilliant!” Grabbing her coffee cup and another biscuit, Tosh headed for her computer to sign the three of them up.
The End
Author: badly_knitted
Characters: Owen, Ianto, Tosh, Jack, Gwen.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1100
Summary: Chasing aliens around Cardiff for several hours has given Tosh a brilliant idea, but will the others agree?
Content Notes: None needed.
Written For: Challenge 416: Marathon at fan_flashworks.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
“How long were we out there chasing those stupid things?” Owen asked, staggering across the Hub and collapsing into the chair at his workstation, because that was closer than the tattered but marginally more comfortable sofa under the Torchwood sign.
Ianto glanced at his wristwatch as he made his way towards the kitchenette to brew a restorative round of coffees. “Four and a half hours, give or take. Not bad, considering all the sudden changes of direction and the number of aliens we had to round up.”
“Not bad? It’s a miracle I haven’t collapsed from exhaustion; I still might. Feels like I’ve run a bloody marathon!”
Tosh, who’d sensibly exchanged her heels for trainers before the team left the Hub, settled onto one end of the sofa, tucking her feet under her before taking her phone out of her pocket and pulling up a programme.
“You didn’t. According to this we only covered around eight miles; I have a programme on here that measures distance travelled. A full marathon is a little over twenty-six miles, and we didn’t even run half that.”
Owen scowled. “Nitpicker! I don’t care how far it was, all I know is my feet are killing me. That was worse than chasing a bunch of Weevils!”
“I thought it was fun,” Jack said as he wandered in from the garage, grinning.
“You would.” Owen shot Torchwood’s captain a disgusted look. “You’re a bloody sadist.”
“Me? You make it sound like I forced you to do all the work by yourself, but I was running just as much as the rest of you. All of us did our share. It’s not my fault you’re so unfit.”
“I’m a doctor, not a bloody animal catcher!”
“They’re aliens,” Jack corrected. “Not just animals, and you’re a Torchwood agent. That means you do whatever I tell you to do. We needed all hands out there today.”
“Yeah? So how come Gwen got to sit it out, following us in the SUV?”
“We needed somewhere to put the aliens as we caught them, and you’re the one who said she should keep off her feet until her ankle heals.” Ironically, Gwen had sprained it the day before when she’d slipped on a wet floor in the supermarket while doing her weekly shopping.
“So where is she now?”
Jack shrugged. “On the phone to Rhys. So…” He looked around at his team expectantly. “Who’s going to help me carry five boxes of scuttling red and black fuzzy things down to the cells?”
“Don’t look at me,” Owen said firmly. “If I stand up, my legs might fall off.”
“That happened to me once, but there was a laser involved. Sliced both legs off just below the knee. Luckily, the laser cauterised the wounds, so I didn’t bleed out while I was sticking my legs back where they belong. I had a bit of trouble getting them the right way around though. Nearly ended up with one foot pointing backwards, which might’ve made walking a bit difficult.”
“I remember that night. You nearly ended up with the left leg on the right, and the right on the left; good thing I caught up to you when I did,” Ianto said, coming out of the kitchenette, his tray laden with five coffees and a large plate of assorted biscuits. “I’ll help you with the aliens in a bit, but I want my coffee first.”
“Fair enough.” Jack went to join Tosh on the sofa. “They’re not going anywhere; they can wait another ten minutes.”
Carrying the tray over to his eagerly waiting colleagues, Ianto set it down on the coffee table before taking Owen his mug.
“Oi, don’t I get any biscuits?”
Rolling his eyes, Ianto fetched the plate, which was already half empty, courtesy of Jack who had three biscuits in each hand and another already in his mouth.
“Here.” He thrust the plate at Owen. “What did your last servant die of?”
Owen just smirked. “Ta,” he said, taking four biscuits and plonking them on top of the pile of unfinished reports on his desk.
“I hope you’re going to clean up the crumbs.”
“Whatever.”
Ianto returned to the sofa just as Gwen came limping in from the garage.
“Oooh, coffee! Thanks, Ianto.”
“I live to serve, apparently,” Ianto told her dryly, settling between Jack and Tosh on the sofa, picking up his mug, and helping himself to a biscuit from the plate while there were still some left.
Tosh was intently studying something on her phone as she reached blindly for the biscuit plate herself, taking one at random and biting into it. After a couple more minutes she sat up straighter, brandishing her half-eaten biscuit. “We should do it. I mean, we could, I think. Except maybe Owen. We three could anyway.” Tosh turned to Jack and Ianto. “We’d have to do some training, of course.”
“Of course,” Jack agreed. “Training for what?”
Somehow, Ianto seemed to get what Tosh was talking about, proving once again that he knew everything. “The Cardiff half-marathon. It’s at the beginning of October, so we wouldn’t have much time for training, but it’s for an excellent cause.”
“The NSPCC,” Tosh agreed.
“Well in that case, count me in.” Jack beamed at Ianto and Tosh. “We could run as a team.”
“What about me?” Gwen looked at her colleagues.
“Up to you,” Jack told her. “But you won’t be able to train until your ankle’s healed.”
“Yeah, I suppose not.” Gwen sighed. “Oh well, maybe I can take part next year. I’ll settle for being your cheerleader this time out. What about you, Owen?”
“No way in hell! It’s one thing chasing aliens, I get paid to do that, but running around for no reason’s not my idea of fun.”
“Wimp,” Gwen accused, sipping her coffee. “And it’s not for no reason; it’s to raise money for a worthy cause.”
“I’m still not doing it.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Gwen grabbed the last custard cream.
“So, do I sign us up?” Tosh looked at Jack, then Ianto, her expression hopeful.
“Why not?” Ianto smiled at his friend. “I’ve done the 10k St. David’s Day run a few times now, reckon I can double that with a bit of training. Jack?”
“Already said I’m in.” Jack winked at his lover. “I’ll run right behind you and enjoy the view. That’ll be all the motivation I need.”
Ianto snorted. “Typical.”
“This is going to be brilliant!” Grabbing her coffee cup and another biscuit, Tosh headed for her computer to sign the three of them up.
The End